


All Hail The Queen

by Shampain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, Light Bondage, Submissive Crowley (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shampain/pseuds/Shampain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Lilith's right hand demon, Crowley has a variety of responsibilities - and one of them is to be available for Lilith herself. Who says you can't enjoy your work? Set mid-season 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Hail The Queen

Lilith liked to wear blondes. Crowley wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe she liked the idea of it, of looking pure and sweet and honest. It didn't matter, though - no matter how pale her hair or how fair her skin or how white her clothing, Lilith was always Lilith. She was a dangerous and twisted creature, her moods ranging from hot to cold and her affection more fleeting than a hailstorm but just as uncomfortable. 

When she had nothing better to do her choice of suit tended to be little girls - she had been stuck in Hell for so long, he assumed it entertained her to look so harmless while wreaking bloody terror. But when Lilith was busy she had a few older bodies, tall and leggy and dangerous, because that was much easier to blend into a crowd with. And she had been very, very busy lately, though trying desperately hard not to let the Winchesters know it.

When Lilith had been released, lesser demons had shrank away in terror; Crowley had stepped up, though. He was smarter than most of his kind, and more ruthless, and more vicious, though he always took great pains to disguise it. To seem volatile and dangerous only attracted an undue amount of enemies, while simply being good at your job was rarely noticed in a place as chaotic as Hell. Thus Crowley's rise to becoming the king of the crossroads had seemed like a relaxed, accidental journey, as opposed to the bloody fight it was.

He hadn't been afraid of Lilith (well; perhaps a little) and he was smart. When Lilith liked you, it was a mixed blessing - a shot of dizzying power tempered by terror and danger, but he was willing to take that risk, and he had clamoured to be noticed. And notice she certainly had.

They tended to room in very elegant hotel suites, though with their abilities being what they were, Lilith and Crowley occupied several rooms in several hotels in several different states, and you never knew when either of them might show up in one of them. When Crowley stepped into the room in Seattle, he was only vaguely surprised to find Lilith, blonde as ever, wearing a silky white robe, half curled up on the bed and smoking. The remnants of makeup around the eyes, and the slight bird's nest look to her hair, suggested she had either just been up to something, or this was a recent meatsuit acquisition of some party girl who had never made it home. She was dropping ash on a plate covered in something bloody and red, and reading a Japanese newspaper. All in all, she looked relaxed. That was a good sign.

"Crowley," she said, exhaling smoke through both of her nostrils. "Come here. Where have you been?"

"Doing everything you asked," he said, crossing the plush carpet to her. "And a bit more. Buying souls keeps me a busy man."

"The Colt?"

"Ours, soon," he promised. He hovered by the bedside. He was a cocky creature by nature, but no matter how familiar he became with Lilith he wasn't going to make the mistake of a zookeeper with a captive tiger. Relax, and you'll get mauled. Until she told him to join her, explicitly, he would remain where he was. 

Crowley didn't like being obedient, preferring to manage his own destiny, but he couldn't deny he was good at doing whatever Lilith wanted. Likely why he had survived so long as her trusted right hand.

"Good," she said, taking a thoughtful suck on the end of the cigarette, eyes narrowing slightly. "We can't..." she exhaled, and stopped talking. She did that to him, often. Infuriating.

Still, she told him more than she told anyone and anything else. His idea of what was to come was patchy at best, but he understood it was something to be reckoned with. It all seemed to hinge on the crossroads deal with that punk Dean Winchester, the contract that Crowley held personally. That had been another reason why her eyes had landed on him, in fact, a detail he would not forget.

Finally she tapped a fingernail to the mattress, and Crowley sat next to her on the edge of the bed. 

There was never telling what she may or may not do. Crowley could go for weeks seeing her and she would never touch him; then, sometimes, she would have him pinned for days on end. 'Lover' was a strange term; rather, Crowley had all that Lilith wanted, and she took from him whatever and whenever she desired. But even now, sitting next to her on the bed, while he was fairly certain all she had on was just that robe, he wasn't sure if she was about to just tell him to get out, or to find her something or someone, or just do any random thing she could think of.

She picked her plate up and set it on the nightstand, and leaned back against the pillows. Her bare foot prodded at his thigh, causing her robe to slip slightly and reveal a few more inches of creamy skin. He smirked at her, slightly, and she smiled back. She definitely wasn't wearing anything else under there; the points of her nipples pressed against the delicate fabric.

"Do you like the suit, Crowley?" she asked. "I found her a few blocks away, heading back from a concert just before the sun came up. Drunk and angry and stinking of rum. You can still sort of smell it."

"Not as premium a scent as you deserve," he said. She grinned at him, and he knew now she wasn't just teasing him before kicking him out. He shifted his weight, leaning over her, and put his face close to her neck, close enough that his nose brushed against the spot where a pulse was moving, rhythmically, enough to keep everything running.

"Well?" she asked. "Can you smell it?"

"I can," he murmured, and put his mouth to her neck.

Suddenly her hands were on his chest, unbuttoning his jacket, and then she was sliding her arms around him. Her strength had ceased to surprise him, and when she boldly pulled him forward he settled on top of her with ease, and for a moment she purred like a kitten.

"You're warm," she sighed. "I didn't realize it was chilly, in here." He was just wondering where she had put her cigarette when suddenly he felt it, burning, against the back of his neck, as she stubbed it out on his skin. He started with a soft exclamation of surprise, the pain a brief flare, and she laughed and flicked the butt onto the carpet.

"Ow," he chuckled, mockingly put out.

"Did that hurt?" She nipped at his ear. "I can hurt you more," she promised, tantalizing, and also threateningly. She was moving underneath him, a slight wriggle that was at the same time energetic and captivating. Her body pulsed beneath his and Crowley felt it, in the pit of his stomach, that odd mixture of fear and desire and exhilaration she awoke inside of him. What could he say? He liked them feisty.

Her hands were sliding underneath his jacket and around his back, and he could feel the press of her nails through the silk of his shirt and waistcoat. Then she began to kiss him, fiercely, and that's when he understood he wasn't allowed to speak anymore, not until she told him to and had perhaps tired of kissing him. To converse with a crossroads demon during sex was an ill-advised route indeed when deals could be sealed with a kiss, though where Lilith was concerned her deals required a bit more subjugation than that. 

Lips, teeth, and tongue; Lilith bit down hard and he tasted the iron of blood, and she rocked up against him, eagerly, in a way that made him suspect she had been waiting for him all along and had simply been passing the time until he had finished his work and returned to her. Which, frankly, caused a rush of lust and trepidation that had him pressing her down against the bed.

"Crowley," she purred against his mouth, licking at a bit of blood on his bottom lip. "My silver tongued salesman. Show me your tongue."

His mouth was bloody and he left a trail as he kissed his way down her throat. The robe fell aside like water and her skin was hot and firm to the touch, like brimstone. She slipped her fingers into his hair, the touch light, but as soon as his mouth touched her breasts he felt her fingernails dig sharply into his scalp.

He closed his lips around her nipple, teasing at the tip with his tongue. She gasped and arched her back upwards, her hands tightening in his hair to keep him in place. This was Lilith at her most relaxed. It was a show of her trust that she allowed him to do this to her; he knew very well she had taken lovers before that were more or less chew toys. But for Crowley she was often more than happy to give leeway, a surprising discovery. What he had never expected before embarking on this campaign to be her right hand was to enjoy her.

Her nipple was hard and pebbled under his tongue, her breast soft and firm against his teeth. She writhed underneath him, gently pressing her knee between his legs to where he was growing hard. Moaning against her flesh he bit down hard enough to draw a bruise, and Lilith gasped aloud, jerking roughly beneath him. 

She scratched her nails mercilessly over the burn on the back of his neck. "Your tongue, Crowley," she demanded, her voice coming out in a bit of a hiss.

She was clutching at him, but as soon as he shifted his weight she let go, not about to get in his way. She was a lovely thing, splayed out on the bed like that, panting and grinning, her true face shining just below the surface. He traced his fingertips down over her stomach, and he watched as she parted her legs for him. Her golden curls were already glistening with wetness, and he spread her folds with his fingers, admiring her for a moment. But only for a moment - she had specifically demanded his tongue, and he knew better than to diverge from her wishes so early in the game.

Crowley bent his head to taste her, tongue flicking out experimentally. Lilith's hips twitched and she produced a guttural sounding growl before gripping the back of his head and dragging him down fully. He went without protest, sliding his tongue through her folds, tasting her.

He barely noticed her grip, and he cared about the pain even less. Just the taste of her and the searing heat of her flesh against his lips was enough to demand all of his attention. He licked his way up, circling the hard bead of her clit, and she rocked her hips upward roughly in response. The sounds she was making filled his ears, sharp and tense, and he worked away at her eagerly, licking downward to trace her entrance with the tip of his tongue, then back up to suck roughly at her clit. She was thrilling and his cock absolutely ached for her, but he wouldn't have her until she allowed him.

He scraped his teeth lightly against the sensitive flesh, soothed with his tongue, and she was jerking eagerly on the bed now, hands clamped firmly on the back of his head. He knew she was staring down at him between her legs - she always did - and he felt so in control he was nearly dizzy with it. He knew just what parts of her were most sensitive, how she responded to each sucking kiss and lick. He lapped at her wetness before pressing his tongue to her entrance, and then she came with a cry, bucking roughly. She refused to let go of him, fingers securely twisted in his hair, but this time when she was done and sprawled across the bed she at least hadn't broken his nose in her frenzy. It wouldn't have been the first time. Likewise, she had managed not to pull out a handful of his hair, though the trickle down the back of his neck told him that she had drawn blood. Finally, she let go.

He had just straightened up when she was grabbing his tie and dragging him back up the bed to meet her, kissing him before he'd managed to regain his breath. Her legs wrapped around him and Crowley could feel her heat, pressing against his cock. He was still fully clothed and she was twining herself around him like a serpent.

"Crowley," she hummed, sounding delighted. "You're just what I need. It's been a long week." She gripped at the back of his jacket, holding him down, but her other hand slipped over his chest and downward, caressing him through his trousers. He made a noise in the back of his throat and she chuckled. "Talk to me," she murmured.

"And what would you like me to talk about, darling?" he breathed, nipping lightly at her neck. "We could talk about you. You're an endless, fascinating topic."

"Such flattery. You aren't even trying to be subtle."

"No, I'm really not. You'd see straight through it anyway." 

"I can see right through you, Crowley," she said. Before he could reply she pressed her hand against him, and he hissed softly through his teeth. Generally, he liked to talk, but when she started to undo his trousers and slip her hand inside, sliding her fingers over his length before wrapping them firmly around him, he was unsurprisingly at a loss for words.

Her lips and teeth tracked over his neck, the side of his face, his ear. She was kissing and biting and licking him, playful, with that viciousness beneath it, like a cat playing with its food. She stroked firmly over his cock and he shuddered, moaning, hands digging into the expensive bedsheets beneath them. 

She said his name again, teasing, and when he didn't answer out of distraction she bit him hard on the earlobe. "You are a queen, Lilith," he gasped, and she laughed, the sound ringing in his ears. She was done with letting him play about, he knew. Now, she would take, and he would let her.

"And you're so good at bowing before me," she teased. She pulled her hand from his trousers and back to his tie, gripping it again, pulling, and for a second he wondered if she was going to strangle him with it when again she was wrapping herself around him, twisting, forcing him over to the side and then onto his back.

She perched atop him, her own body weight pressing down against his hardness, and she rocked slightly, watching him with a smile. Her hands roamed over his stomach and chest and throat, one hand going higher to slip her index finger into his mouth.

Lilith owned him, and she always let him know it. He bit gently at her finger and she chuckled and rocked down a bit more. His mouth - one of his best weapons, something that could turn saints into sinners and even bring Lilith herself to heel - was in fact all hers. She traced her wet fingertip over his bottom lip, leaning over him, her long blonde hair falling in a curtain on either side of his face as she locked him into a stare. This was the deal he had struck, without a contract, but still with a kiss. "Do you want inside of your queen?" she asked, purring the words out.

Crowley turned his head, nipping lightly at her fingertips, but he kept his stare on her. You never broke her stare, not if you wanted her respect. "I want whatever my queen will give me," he replied.

It was the right answer. She bent down and slammed her mouth against his, violent and dominant, her body coiling atop his with a new tension, a python about to strike. His hands slid over her waist and up to her breasts, kneading roughly at the soft mounds, her nipples scraping against his palms. She ground herself down against him and he made a tortured enough sound that, apparently satisfied with his level of need, she reached down, tugging so hard at his trousers she ripped the fabric slightly.

She gripped at his freed cock, shifting and maneuvering herself down onto him, settling atop him with a satisfied moan, inch by inch sinking into her. She was tight, hot, and wet, and Crowley jerked underneath her, pleadingly, but she clamped both hands on his chest and held him down. "Be still," she ordered in a voice barely loud enough to be a whisper, but he did as she commanded, even though all he wanted was to repeatedly bury himself in her heat.

She began to move her hips, achingly slow, and he bit at his bottom lip and dug his head back against the pillow. The movement exposed his throat and suddenly her teeth were on it, biting gently at his Adam's apple. "Who is your queen, Crowley?" she asked, her voice still barely audible.

"You." Her hips hitched forward and he groaned, roughly. When she didn't ask him another question but instead kissed him again, he knew she was demanding he shut up once more. Her tongue plundered his mouth, numbing his lips with the force of her kiss. She put both hands to the side of his face, fingernails trailing over his temples and along his hairline as they kissed. His own fingertips scraped over her lean back, which arched under his touch and with the new, brunt rocking of her hips.

Every scrape of her teeth and scratch of her nail sent a shudder through him but it was nothing compared to being buried deep inside of her. He arched underneath her and she let him, even grabbed a handful of fabric at his shoulder and tugged him up slightly. Though she wanted to tease him, to torture him, she must not have been able to resist, because she was bucking wildly on top of him now, gripping him to her. They were both groaning, almost shouting, lips and teeth trailing over each other's skin. She tore at his jacket, his shirt, shredding the fabric, scratching her nails deep over his skin and leaving angry, trailing lines. He was able to pull her down and lean up enough that he could dig his teeth into one soft breast, and she made a sharp, keening sound, jumping in his lap and coming suddenly.

She tightened brutally around his cock and he groaned, partially in ecstasy, partially in regret. Often once she came she would leave him, and it would be hours or even days until he saw satisfaction. But this time Lilith shoved him down, hard, against the bed, working her hips intensely throughout her orgasm and beyond. There was no doubt in his mind that she was doing this to prove a point, just like everything else she did - she took from him whatever she wanted, and just then she wanted all of him and he would not keep it from her. 

And just as he had bit her she bent down and sank her teeth into his chest, deep into the fleshy spot just beneath his collarbone, puncturing the skin. Her teeth were buried as firmly inside him as his cock was in her, and he came with a hoarse shout, shuddering and bucking underneath her, though she kept him securely pinned.

He was still panting by the time the ringing in his ears stopped, and he realized she was chuckling to herself in a very satisfied way. She lapped at the blood on his chest, before shifting, kissing the sweat at his temple. Her hands, dangerously gentle, began to undo his tie, though for a moment she tightened it teasingly around his neck. He was very rarely left out of sorts, and he never enjoyed it - unless it came from her. Somehow, laying there underneath her in the remains of a suit he hadn't even been able to take off just made him feel like they ought to have another go.

The tie undone, she calmly raised both of his arms above his head and bound his wrists to the headboard with it. Then she made quick work with the remnants of his suit, tearing and tugging it all off.

She stood up on the bed, looming over him, hands on her hips, looking thoughtful. There was a thin, glistening trail gliding down the inside of her thigh. He stared at it just as she was staring at his still wet cock.

"I'll go make us a drink," she said, stepping off the bed and heading for the other room in the suite. "It's going to be a long weekend for us." 

He dearly hoped she would be back soon. With Lilith he never knew.


End file.
